The Winter Snow
by whatthenesmith
Summary: Mike, Micky, and Davy have been dating each other for a little bit now. With Peter going to Connecticut for Christmas, the boys decide to head to England to spend the holiday with Davy's grandfather. But can they keep their secret to themselves? Or will the holidays be ruined? (For the Monkees Holiday Exchange 2015)
As the plane landed, snow began to fall. They were only tiny flakes, but Davy had assured Mike and Micky that the snow in Manchester was an incredible amount compared to the little to none received in LA. Mike wasn't a huge fan of the snow, but he knew Micky loved the stuff. He was like a kid. It made Mike smile, a little. Grabbing their overhead bags, the threesome got off the plane.

"Gee, my legs are so cramped," Micky complained, stretching out his legs as he did so.

"Long flights will do that to you," Mike commented.

"Alright, my granddad should be out front to pick us up," Davy informed both of them, heading towards the front of the airport.

They hadn't packed any actual luggage, besides the overhead bags, in order to save money. Plus, Davy's grandfather had assured both Micky and Mike over telephone that anything and everything would be more or less provided upon arrival.

"Are you sure this is still a good idea?" Mike asked.

"C'mon, Mike, spending Christmas with Davy's grandpa won't be bad at all!" Micky exclaimed, "I'm sure he'll be really groovy."

"Sure, he'll be groovy," Mike squeezed the strap of his bag, "I'm just worried."

"Worried about what?" Davy frowned.

Mike glanced around.

"Well, 'bout us and him," Mike said, his voice hushed, "I mean, I know we ain't gonna do anything to tip him off, but what if he finds out?"

"Mike, we talked about this. I promise my grandda will not find out about us," Davy tried to reassure his lover.

"Yeah, man, just chill out," Micky grinned, slapping Mike on the back.

Mike took a deep breath and then nodded. It wasn't as if he could ask to go home now that he was already in Manchester, halfway across the world from the pad, from home. He desperately wanted to reach out and grab onto both Micky and Davy, but Mike restrained himself. Fellas didn't hold hands. The threesome exited the airport. It took them a little bit to find Davy's grandfather, but eventually they did find him in a black car. It was a newer model, only a few years old, and very nice. Mike didn't know much about Davy's grandpa, except that he was reasonably well off and old. That sounded insensitive, but that really was all Mike knew about him.

"Grandda!" Davy exclaimed upon seeing his grandfather clamber out of his car.

"Davy, my boy!" his granddad beamed.

The two embraced and the wind whipped up, blowing snow flakes into Mike's eyes. He was glad that Davy had insisted they each bring one of the heavier coats that were hardly ever used.

"How was your flight?" Davy's grandfather inquired as he took Davy's bag and showed Micky and Mike to the trunk of the car.

"It was alright, a bit of turbulence, but no crashing," Davy joked as their bags were slung into the trunk.

"Well, isn't that just a blessing," Davy's grandfather beamed, "I'm Thomas Jones, Davy's grandda. Though I believe we have met before."

Davy's grandfather stuck out his hand and Mike shook first, Micky reluctantly following. He was shivering, not use to the cold.

"Yes, sir, but it's nice to meet ya proper, sir," Mike nodded.

"Well, let's get in the car and warm up. The snow'll be getting heavier, so we best get home," Davy's grandfather commented.

He clambered back into the driver's seat. Davy took the passenger's, leaving Mike and Micky to scrambled into the backseat. As Davy's grandpa pulled away from the curb, away from the airport, Mike took a chance. He grabbed Micky's hand, to help him warm up just a little, or at least that's what Mike told himself anyway. Micky squeezed Mike's hand in return, an unspoken thank you.

"I've set up a cot in David's room, along with a sleeping bag," Thomas said as he drove, "Sorry it's a bit cramped. If it's too much, one of you could sleep on the couch, though I admit it's not one for sleeping on."

"That's alright," Micky chirped, "It'll just make things seem cozy."

"I hope that's how it'll seem," Thomas agreed, "We'll drink tea and hot coco, and I'll bake some biscuits."

Mike felt weird. No, exposed. Mike felt that at any moment Davy's grandfather would find out. A sudden grip of fear took ahold of the Texan and he quickly untwined his fingers from Micky's, shoving his hands into his pockets. Micky shot Mike a confused look, asking what he had done wrong. Mike looked out the window. The snow was falling in thicker flakes now. Why had he agreed to this? It was bad enough hiding their relationship back in LA, where a teeny community could be found as a refuge if the threesome so desired. They had the pad to hide away in. They had Peter to validate that what they were doing was okay.

Now, here across the world, Mike couldn't help but feel disgusted by himself. Feel afraid that Davy's grandfather would bring hell upon them for loving each other. One man was bad enough, but two? Unthinkable. Thomas droned on and on about what he had planned, which wasn't much, and he also insisted that they all just do their own things. Mike didn't pay much attention. He already wanted this trip over with. The drive to Davy's grandfather's home was a short one, about twenty-five minutes away from the airport. It was a small little cottage, two stories with what Mike assumed would be a lovely garden during the warmer months in the front. Thomas parked in the driveway and pulled the keys out of the ignition.

"Do any of you need help with your bags?" he asked.

"No, I think we can handle them," Micky answered.

"Yeah, they're pretty light," Davy agreed.

"Alright then, I'll go inside and get a fire started to warm up the house," Thomas informed them before getting out of the car.

Micky, Mike, and Davy followed suit, although instead of heading into the house they headed to the trunk.

"Hey, Mike, you okay, man?" Micky asked, his brows slightly furrowed.

"I'm fine," Mike lied, not wanting to worry his partners.

"Are you have second thoughts about this?" Davy wondered as he lugged his bag out of the trunk.

"We just need to be careful," Mike mumbled, slinging his bag onto his shoulder.

"We will, Mike, don't sweat it. Just enjoy being in England! Maybe we'll meet the Beatles," Micky waggled his eyebrows, trying to cheer Mike up.

Mike gave Micky a small smile, appreciating Micky's attempt despite it's failure.

"The Beatles are from Liverpool, Mick, not Manchester," Davy rolled his eyes, handing Micky his bag before shutting the trunk.

"Well, I dunno, England's a pretty small place," Micky shrugged.

Mike could tell he was a little embarrassed and that made Mike genuinely smile.

"C'mon, fellas, let's get inside before we freeze our asses off," Mike ordered, heading towards the house.

"I haven't been able to feel my toes since we got off the plane," Micky commented, bounding after Mike.

"I told you to wear warm socks," Davy said, following suit, pausing for a moment before adding, " I hope you packed socks."

"I never wear socks, they make my feet too sweaty," Micky joked, or at least Mike hoped he was joking.

The inside of the house was just as Mike had thought it would be. All wood and knit rugs, book shelves overflowing with books. It was all pretty much open, with a staircase in the corner of the living room opening up to the second floor. Thomas was in the kitchen putting a tea kettle on the stove and there was a nice fire in the fireplace.

"David can show you upstairs. Let me know if there's anything you boys need. I'll see what I can do," Thomas called from the kitchen.

"Thank you very much, sir," Mike said.

"C'mon, let's go see my room," Davy grinned, heading up the stairs.

Micky and Mike followed, Mike eager to find a bit of privacy already. How he'd last a whole week here in hell, he wasn't entirely sure. The second floor held three rooms, Davy's room, Thomas's room, and a bathroom. The two rooms were next to each other, with the bathroom being located directly across from them. Davy lead Mike and Micky to the second door, opening it and ushering them inside. It was a bit cramped, as Davy's grandfather had warned them, but that was alright with the threesome.

The walls were painted a darker shade of blue, with a twin bed shoved against the wall nearest to the window. Opposite this bed was the cot that Thomas had set up, a rolled up sleeping bag sitting atop this. The bookshelf in here was neatly organized, with one shelf dedicated to records rather than books. Next to the bookcase was a little table where a record player was. Mike wasn't sure what he had expected but now that he was seeing Davy's childhood room, he thought that it suited the small man quite well.

"Wow, Davy, you have a lot of neat-o records," Micky observed.

"Most of them were my mum's," Davy shrugged, throwing his bag onto the bed, "You guys should unpack. Grandda told me tomorrow, as an early Christmas present, he's giving you both a sweater."

"Aw, shucks, I hate sweaters," Micky grumbled.

"That ain't what you were saying when we were getting on the plane in LA," Mike countered.

"People change, Mike, let me live," Micky rolled his eyes, but Mike could tell that he was kidding around.

"Well, don't be too put out, Mick, I got both of you pretty nice Christmas gifts, if I do say so myself," Davy smirked.

Micky's eyes went wide right then.

"Oh crap, oh man, I forgot your presents back at the pad!" he exclaimed before slamming his palm to his forehead, "Aw shit."

"Well that's okay, Micky, don't sweat it man," Davy said, rubbing Micky's back in a comforting manner, "You don't need to give us any presents on Christmas, you're a gift enough."

"I wouldn't go around saying that," Mike mumbled, trying to keep a straight face.

"I'm not that bad," Micky pouted.

"Yeah, you're way worse," Mike smirked.

Micky gave Mike a playful punch on the shoulder before going over to the cot and depositing his bag upon it.

"Boys!" Thomas's voice drifted up from downstairs, "Tea's ready."

"Coming, grandda," Davy called back.

He gave Mike and Micky an almost comically large grin before exiting the bedroom. Micky followed quickly, hot on Davy's hells, leaving Mike to follow at a more leisurely pace. He couldn't help but think that this was still a bad idea. If Davy's grandpa found out about them, Davy's heart would be broken. Right now, Mike knew Davy was just enjoying the time he had with his grandfather and his partners, but the two could never overlap. Mike just prayed that everything would go smoothly. Nothing would raise a red flag and all three of them would get through this Christmas undetected.

Davy's grandfather served tea with some biscuits, which Mike found delicious but Micky clearly took a dislike to them. For the next hour, Davy and his grandfather merely caught up with one another on how their lives were going, Mike and Micky chipping in now and then when it came to Davy's half of the conversation. After the flow of conversation did ebb away, Davy got up and stretched.

"I think it's best we be off to bed, now, grandda," he said.

"Oh, yes, it is perhaps a bit late," Thomas agreed, glancing at a clock that was above the fireplace, on the mantle.

"Thank you for the tea," Mike said.

"It's really no problem at all, lad. You're a guest in my house, and I'm happy to have Davy's friends over for the holidays. It gets very lonely up here without my boy," Davy's grandfather replied.

"Well, you're certainly not going to have a quiet Christmas this year, grandda, not with Micky around," Davy joked.

"I won't mind," chucked Thomas, "Goodnight, then, boys."

"Goodnight, grandda," Davy replied, before heading upstairs.

"Goodnight," Mike and Micky chorused before quickly following Davy upsets.

Neither of them wanted to be alone with Davy's grandfather, but for different reasons. Mike felt too uncomfortable, as if Davy's grandfather already knew about their sins. Micky on the other hand was just too tired to talk in general and wanted to collapse into bed as soon as possible. The threesome brushed their teeth, since hygiene was important, before they went into Davy's room and shut the door.

"Hey, Mick, push that cot next to my bed. We'll sleep together," Davy suggested.

"Sure, as long as I can sleep," Micky agreed, doing as Davy had asked of him.

"Wait a hot minute here, what if you're grandpa comes in and sees us?" Mike asked.

"Don't worry, Mike," Davy began, "Micky will sleep on the cot portion and you in the bed. I'll sleep in the middle. I always wake up before grandda, so when I wake up, I'll just push Micky to the other side because he sleeps like a rock."

"I do not," Micky protested weakly.

Mike could tell his heart was too tired to be into the protest.

"Yeah, you do," Mike and Davy chorused in response.

"Then," Davy continued, "I'll hop into the sleeping bag and relax for a few minutes, so that if he happens to pop in unexpected, it'll seem as if I was just sleeping in the sleeping bag."

"Won't your granddad think that it's weird you're not in your own bed?" Micky wondered, stifling a yawn.

"I don't really think so," Davy admitted, "I used to give up my bed for school friends when they came over to stay, I don't see why he'd expect me to change my habits now."

Mike thought this plan of Davy's was too risky, but at the same time, Michael didn't really feel like sleeping separately from Micky or Davy tonight. So he kept his opinion to himself and merely changed into his pajamas. Mike always changed his clothes with his back facing his partners, even though they had no problem facing each other. There were a lot of things Mike still had to get used to when it came to relationship details. A year and a half together, and still Mike felt weird about certain things.

"Tomorrow, I'll ring up my old friend Sarah. We could go out for a drink and maybe do some sight seeing," Davy suggested.

"Thought you could only sightsee in London," Micky teased, clambering into the cot.

"Naw, you can see sights anywhere," Mike answered, getting into the actual bed.

"Sure there isn't much to see, but there are a few cool things around," Davy smirked, shutting off the lights before curling up next to Mike.

"Like what? A playground?" Mike joked, tentatively putting an arm around Davy.

"Oh, that sounds like fun, we could go on the swings. I love the swings," Micky sounded genuine, and knowing Micky, Mike figured that he was.

"If that's what you want to do tomorrow, I'm sure we can find some swings," Davy responded.

Though as Mike heard Micky's soft snoring, he knew that Davy's words were lost on their partner. He was already asleep.

"Night, Davy," Mike said, smiling softly to himself as he shut his eyes.

"Goodnight, Mike," Davy said in response, adding for no one but the benefit of himself, "Goodnight, Micky."


End file.
